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Thursday, July 15, 2010

What I mean is...donkeys are a stoic bunch, like cattle dogs. So when they hurt they don't tell you until it's really ouchy. And you say (like to a small child), "Why didn't you TELL me you hurt?"

They look at you with those big brown, liquid eyes. How can you scold them at a time like that?

Pete started going almost 3-legged Saturday afternoon. I put a perfectly sound, 4-legged Pete in the corral at 6:30 a.m. Came home at 2:30 p.m. to a limping Pete.

I mixed his anti-inflammatory medicine with applesauce and squirted it into his mouth. "Oh YUM," he said. "May I have more?" Every twelve hours buddy.

Dr. Bob said to do an Epsom salts soak twice a day or a poultice. We started soaking but changed over to the poultice. It's quite the project and requires: a donkey, two people, a spatula and some ichthammol ointment (say that three times real fast!), Vetrap, patience, scissors, sheet cotton, more patience and the mother-of-all-sticky-stuff, duct tape.

Poor Pete. I would tell you about my lack of first-hand experience dealing with hoof abcesses, but saying such stuff out loud is never a good thing so I won't. I will say that the desert climate is very kind to the hooves of our equine friends and Pete will definitely appreciate it as soon as he gets here. Meantime, give him a big hug for me.